


The Art of Chilling Out

by lamardeuse



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney loosens up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Chilling Out

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the mcsmooch community on Livejournal.

“Oh, boy, my room's bigger than it was this morning,” John said as he stumbled into his quarters. “That's gotta be bad.”

Behind him, Rodney giggled, then hiccupped. “It would be, 'cept this is my room.” He shuffled to a stop, then squinted. “At least I think it is.”

“I really shouldn't have had that third glass of ruus wine,” John groaned, sitting heavily on Rodney's bed and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Man, this new batch the Athosians had cooked up to celebrate Teyla's return and the birth of the baby had a kick like a mule, not that it was exactly gentle the best of times.

“You're not gonna puke, are you? Don't puke in my room!” Rodney rushed over to him and stood right in front of him, then began poking at his shoulders and the top of his head.

“Rodney. I'm not gonna puke.” John lifted his head and glared. “But if you keep poking at me, I might do it just to piss you off.”

Rodney glared back for a moment, then flopped down beside John. The sudden bouncing of the mattress did make John's stomach do an unpleasant swoopy backflip thing, but he wasn't going to admit that to Rodney. “I am drunk,” Rodney pronounced. “And so are you.”

“Now I know you're a genius,” John shot back. “And I'm not that drunk. Just – mellow.”

“Mellowwww,” Rodney repeated, drawing out the word for a ridiculous length of time. “Yeah, maybe that's what we are. I forgot what that felt like.”

John snorted. “Maybe because you've never been mellow in your entire life.”

“I have too been mellow!” Rodney snapped, affronted. “Didn't I tell you about the time I toked pot in college?”

“Only about fifty million times.”

Rodney stuck out his lower lip. “That's a lot.”

“You mention it so much because it's probably the only time in your life you loosened the hell up.”

“Listen!” Rodney exclaimed, drawing himself up. “I'll have you know I can be loose anytime I like.”

“Oh yeah?” John said, leaning toward Rodney a little, enjoying the challenge. “You can just let go, chill out?”

“I can be so chill, you'll freeze,” Rodney promised. “Flash freeze, like in that stupid movie with Dennis Quaid. One second and _poof_,” he said, pointing a finger at John's nose, “you're frozen.”

John chuckled. “Okay, go for it.”

Rodney frowned in confusion. “Go for it?”

“Yeah. Loosen up. Right here, right now.”

Rodney stared at him. “But I can't just – loosen up. It's not something you can _do_. It's – it's the absence of doing something, isn't it?”

“Nah,” John said, grinning as he leaned back on his elbows. “You can do lots of stuff. Loosening up means turning your brain off and doing things you'd never do if you were thinking about why you shouldn't.”

“Like drinking too much ruus wine,” Rodney offered.

“That's for amateurs,” John scoffed, waving a hand. “You can do better than that.”

“But I – ”

“Rodney,” John sighed. “Just – go with the flow. It's easier than you think.”

Rodney stared at him for a couple of seconds more, and John could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. He was about to tell Rodney he looked about as mellow as a cruise missile when Rodney leaned down and kissed him right on the mouth.

He pulled back almost immediately, but John could still feel the warm press of Rodney's lips long after they were gone. “Okay,” John said, as conversationally as he could, “that's – uh. Pretty loose.”

“Oh, god, oh, god,” Rodney babbled, eyes going wide, “I – that was a terrible idea, wasn't it? Well, not really an idea, I did it completely on impulse, although I will admit I have thought about it before, just not now, I wasn't thinking at all, just like you told me to – I mean, not to, and so, oh god, please kill me now,” he finished, burying his face in his hands.

“Rodney,” John said softly, sitting up. Rodney didn't move. Experimentally, John poked at the top of Rodney's head.

“Go away,” came the muffled reply. “I suck at being mellow.”

“Hey,” John said, amusement and exasperation and affection rolled up in one big ball in his gut, and how come he'd never noticed that was in there whenever he was around Rodney? “Come on. I haven't had my chance yet.”

Rodney lifted his head from his hands. “Your chance for what?” he asked, fear and worry mixed up with a teaspoon of hope, and John felt that ball in his gut grow even bigger.

What the hell, John thought. Being mellow was no fun alone. He of all people ought to know that by now.

John tipped up Rodney's chin with a finger and leaned in to touch their mouths together, softly and sweetly, a grin fighting to curl up the corners when Rodney pressed back just as softly. “To show you how good I am at chilling out,” he murmured.

“Funny,” Rodney said, nipping tentatively at John's lips, “I don't feel frozen. Quite – um, quite the opposite, actually.”

“You mind?” John asked, sliding a hand into Rodney's hair.

“Hell, no,” Rodney answered, flinging his arms around John and proceeding to show him just how well he could go with the flow.

**Author's Note:**

> First published April 2008.


End file.
